


Mystery Snacks

by chatoyance



Category: Gravity Falls, Scooby Doo Where Are You! (TV 1969)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatoyance/pseuds/chatoyance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper vaguely wondered if all teenagers just drove around in vans for the fun of it, or whether it was just the ones he ended up meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mystery Snacks

The moment he caught a glimpse of the van pulling up in front of the Mystery Shack through the cross-hatched window, Dipper knew that it was going to be a very, very long day.

He sighed and started to straighten out the postcards on the rack next to the door, but when he glanced up again, he noticed that the van sported a particularly interesting paint job. Its roof was glinting lime green in the early afternoon sunlight, orange flowers were painted somewhat sloppily in a pattern across the doors, and he spotted writing on the side that he couldn’t quite make out from his angle near the door.

Mabel stopped spinning around on top of the globe just long enough to notice the van. Dipper heard an excited squeal escape her lips as she leapt down from her perch a little too quickly, stumbling into a pyramid of cheap plastic skulls Soos had spent an hour arranging the day before.

 “I’m okay,” she said, skipping away from the debris gracefully and opening the front door as Dipper moved in to pick up the mess she had left behind.

The first person through the door wasn’t a person at all, but a large great dane with a perpetually cocked eyebrow and what appeared to be a grin on his muzzle. He trotted into the room, but upon noticing the skull at his feet, he made a noise that sounded rather like a car horn being strangled by something and leapt onto the front desk, his clumsy paws sending knickknacks tumbling to the floor.

A young man in a white sweater (and... was that an ascot?) followed the dog, sighing as he picked up one of the skulls, “Scooby, relax, they aren’t real.”

The dog looked at Dipper and the skulls, then back to the man with the ascot. With a shake of his head, he made a sound that Dipper could have sworn was like a wheezy sort of laugh, and jumped off the desk with an audible clunk where Mabel attached herself to him almost immediately. She wrapped her arms around the dog’s broad neck, and he was so big his chin rested on top of her head.

“You’re adorable! Yes you are!” she cooed, and the dog seemed to smile.

“Uh,” Dipper stood up, struggling to hold the skulls in his arms as he made his way across the room, dropping them into an empty shopping basket, “Hi. Welcome to the Mystery Shack...” he said, looking up at the group that had entered the shop. They certainly were a mismatched group of people – a dog, a brainy looking girl with glasses, the guy with the ascot, a red haired lady and a guy in a green t-shirt who looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. But then again, the Mystery Shack got a lot of weird customers – these guys were only Kinda Weird on the scale from Normal to Nutjobs.

“I could sure use a mystery _snack_ ,” the guy in green said absently, and started giggling to himself as he thumbed through the postcards Dipper had just arranged.

“Uh, we have... mixed nuts?” Dipper offered, lifting up a bag from the snack rack.

“Actually, we’re kind of looking for a map,” the girl with the glasses said, “We need to get to a place called Scuttlebutt Island.”

“Oh, I’ve been there once!” Mabel exclaimed, still fussing with the dog’s face, squashing his cheeks while he made that weird dog-giggle.

“I think we have maps over... here...” Dipper trailed off, rooting around behind the front desk through the various magazines that Wendy had stashed there. After a moment of groping in the dark, he pulled out a dusty map of Gravity Falls, “Found it!”

“Hey, these are some nice grappling hooks you have here,” the man with the ascot said, rubbing his chin as he examined them on the shelf, “Where do you get them from? I mean—the manufacturer.”

Dipper involuntarily tilted his head to the side like a confused Chihuahua, “I... I don’t know?”

“That’s okay. I’ll take five of them, anyway.”

Mabel bounded up to him and took the grappling hooks off the shelf to place them at the front desk, “You have fine taste in grappling hooks, friend.”

Dipper kept glancing at the redheaded girl, who was cautiously eyeing a jar with a hand in it. She reminded him of someone a little bit—she kind of looked like Wendy. Well, that is, if Wendy actually _liked_ to wear dresses and scarves, which Dipper knew that she didn’t.

“It’s not real, if you were wondering,” Dipper said to her, and she turned away from the jar to look down at him. In that moment, he felt very small and silly, but he put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall in a solid attempt to appear cool, “It was a Summerween decoration my uncle shoved in a jar and slapped a price tag on.”

“Oh, I didn’t think it was. I was just thinking that was a really steep price for something like that. It is kind of neat, though,” the girl glanced at it again, and it was then that Dipper looked past her and noticed the girl with the glasses picking Book 3 up off the stool where Dipper had left it, and he hastily excused himself and tore across the room.

“Uh, uh, that’s not for sale!” he panted, but quickly regained composure, “I mean, that’s my book, so...”

“What is this book? I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s so interesting...” the girl said as she flipped through it, adjusting her glasses with one hand, “All these notes written as if these monsters were real, so thorough and precise. Did you write this? You have a really great imagination!”

Dipper shook his head, “I didn’t write it, I found it, and—Haha, it’s really convincing, isn’t it?” He decided it probably wasn’t best to mention that he had encountered several of the beings that were described in the book, so he played along, “Whoever wrote it should be a ... well, writer, I guess...”

“Well, here you go. How much do I owe you for that map, kid?” the girl asked, taking a wallet out of the bag she carried with her.

Dipper shook his head, “It’s free. What are you guys going out to Scuttlebutt Island for?”

“Well, we’ve been hearing about a big sea monster that lives out on the lake around here. Something about terrorizing people when they go out fishing. We figured it was a good mystery to investigate. We love having a good mystery on our hands,” Ascot said, handing a stack of bills over to Mabel, who gleefully bagged the grappling hooks two by two.

Green Shirt Guy shook his head, a whiny sort of laugh escaping his lips as he glanced down at the great dane, “Well, we sure don’t,” he said before he turned and went out the door. The dog followed him, his paws clunking against the wood of the front porch in an uneven rhythm.

“Well, you guys will find a lot of that stuff here in Gravity Falls,” Mabel said as she handed the bags to the man with the ascot, “Weird stuff is _always_ happening around here. Dipper and me call ourselves the Mystery Twins, and we investigate them too!”

“ _You_ call us the Mystery Twins,” Dipper mumbled under his breath as Mabel explained all the “weird stuff” to the strangers – gnomes, zombies, cursed wax figures, the works. But as Mabel prattled on, a flash of red and green caught his eye out on the other side of the door, and he craned his neck to see what was happening. His heart sank a little bit when he saw the guy in the green shirt chatting with Wendy out on the front steps of the shack, laughing as she affectionately scrubbed the great dane between his ears as his tongue lolled out over the side of his mouth. Dipper’s mouth twisted into a sort of grimace, and he was only snapped back to reality when Mabel punched his arm.

“Ow, what!?” he said, rubbing the spot where her knuckles had rapped against bone.

“I said, ‘If you have any questions about Gravity Falls, you can call on us, right Dipper?’” Mabel repeated, nudging his arm again and looking up at the three youths.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, nodding, “And if you need any other maps, I’ll try to find some that aren’t so dusty.”

“That’d be groovy,” the red haired girl said, reaching down and ruffling Dipper’s hat as she walked past him and out the door, followed by the girl in the glasses and orange sweater, who nodded and thanked Dipper as she unfolded the map while she walked.

“And if you have any mysteries you need help with, we’ll give you a hand. We’ve been solving mysteries since we were around your age, you know. We’re kind of experts by now,” Ascot Boy said, “Just look out for the Mystery Machine and we’ll always be nearby.”

Dipper vaguely wondered if _all_ teenagers just drove around in vans for the fun of it, or whether it was just the ones he ended up meeting. Either way, he knew Mabel would be keeping an eye out for that van wherever they went; be it at the lake, Greasy’s Diner, or the library, so Dipper nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, “We’ll keep an eye out.”

“Good luck on the island!” Mabel said, holding her hand up for a high five, and the man with the ascot returned it enthusiastically.

“Thanks! See you guys,” he said, and turned toward his friends who were milling around the Mystery Machine, “Okay gang, we’d better get going if we want to get there before dark!”

Dipper and Mabel watched as the van pulled away from the shack, the four inside waving to them as they drove away, the dog sticking his head out the window with his tongue flapping in the breeze.

Dipper swore he heard the dog say “Roodbye!” as they drove away, but decided that it was just the wind.


End file.
